


May You Live in Interesting Times

by DevinBourdain



Series: Manifest Destinies [5]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Drama, Period-Typical Racism, Tragedy, Violence, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 08:03:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinBourdain/pseuds/DevinBourdain
Summary: Some of the defining moments of Sulu's life that lead him to joining outlaw Jim Kirk. Character origin story for Western Enterprises Series. Western AU.His heart is pounding the whole time but something is compelling him to the horse's wild untamed spirit. The danger is so much more interesting than the safe quiet of his life.  "Easy, buddy," soothes Hikaru. The tentative trust between them spurs Hikaru to be bolder in his petting, eventually bringing a second hand up to scratch around the horse's ears. The horse is calm and relaxed, nothing like it was before Hikaru stepped into the coral. All the seasoned ranch hands couldn't calm this wild beast the way his touch seem to sooth its soul.Hikaru's never considered a future as a cowboy before, roaming the land herding cattle, training horses. It's the first time anyone's suggested anything other than working for his family and the quiet mundane existence they've carved out for themselves.  There's something satisfying in feeling the complete trust this horse feels in his presence. Cowboys have adventures and lead interesting lives; it's all a boy can dream about.





	May You Live in Interesting Times

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.  
> Warnings: language and violence  
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated

Hikaru Sulu is five years old when he learns he has a gift. It's not being humble and hard working in which his parents have instilled in him since birth by virtue of shining example, though he has those gifts too, rather something he never dreamed to possess. It's a regular trip through town to deliver the laundry to the men staying at the mining bunkhouse with he and his sister trailing after their mother like little ducklings, when something catches his eye. He dumps his sack of laundry at the bunkhouse steps and silently slips away without his mother's knowledge and despite his sister's warning glare.

He navigates around the legs of the men in the crowd until he reaches the wooden coral post and his first clear view of what's piqued the interest of the men in town. A roar goes up in the crowd as a young man is tossed like a bag of potatoes from the bucking black beauty going wild in the coral. As soon as the man hits the dirt, another bravely tries to mount the horse and force it into submission.

Hikaru stands there captivated as each man takes a turn, undeterred by the failure of those who went before them. There's a moment as he makes eye contact with the wild stallion that he can't help but feel for its plight. Days ago, it was wild and free with endless possibilities before it and now it's penned with the townsfolk mocking it for sport. He can share this majestic beast's fears. The horse is trapped by barriers made by man while he is trapped by tradition, honor, customs and bigotry. If they mean to break this untamed spirit, he can't help but feel they're going about it the wrong way. Forcing a square peg in a round hole never works, much like his father's insistence at having a quiet life running the town laundry is what's going to make a young boy that dreams of adventure and excitement happy.

The next challenger is thrown in spectacular fashion pulling the attention of the crowd away from the horse and towards the man sprawled in the dirt, in need of the town physician. Ducking under the coral rail, Hikaru steps away from the safety of outside the pen and well into the reach of the frightened animal more than willing to take its fear and frustration out on him. Slowly he approaches the horse offering soothing sounds and an outstretched hand whenever if rears and kicks.

His heart is pounding the whole time but something is compelling him to the horse's wild untamed spirit. The danger is so much more interesting than the safe quiet of his life. Eventually his hand makes contact with the smooth skin and after a few shakes of the horse's head, it lets his hand settle there. "Easy, buddy," soothes Hikaru. The tentative trust between them spurs Hikaru to be bolder in his petting, eventually bringing a second hand up to scratch around the horse's ears. The horse is calm and relaxed, nothing like it was before Hikaru stepped into the coral. All the seasoned ranch hands couldn't calm this wild beast the way his touch seem to sooth its soul.

"Well would you look at that," says Richard Trist one of the old ranchers. He walks up behind Hikaru with a bridal in hand. The horse is calm and friendly, a complete contrast to the uncontrollable animal that was dragged into the coral at the start of the day. It's big and strong, with all the makings of a prized work horse providing someone can tame it. In all his years working with animals, he's never seen a change so quickly. "You have a real talent, son," he says as he gets the bridal over the horse's head without incident. "Could use someone with your touch around the ranch."

Hikaru's never considered a future as a cowboy before, roaming the land herding cattle, training horses. It's the first time anyone's suggested anything other than working for his family and the quiet mundane existence they've carved out for themselves. The closest he's ever really been to an animal is the butchered ones his mother brings home for dinner but there's something satisfying in feeling the complete trust this horse feels in his presence. Cowboys have adventures and lead interesting lives; it's all a boy can dream about.

Before he can respond he feels the vice like grip of his mother's hand twisting his ear painfully as she drags him away from the stallion. "Stay away from such wild animals, Hikaru. You could have been hurt. And we have much to do today."

Hikaru trails along, silent as his mother scolds him. He's too preoccupied with watching Mr Trist take his new acquisition to the blacksmith to mind his mother's words. Quiet and boring isn't for him, he longs for the excitement of the Wild West. He's going to be a cowboy when he grows up.

* * *

His parents never buy into the idea of being a cowboy and constantly explain that his duty is to the family and its survival, not flights of fancy that hold no real future. Still, it doesn't deter Hikaru from taking odd jobs from Mr Trist to help feed and train his horses on his way home from returning client's laundry. He's pretty sure his mother knows what he's up to by the grass and dirt stains on his clothes when he returns later than any of his siblings do when completing the return run but the money he brings home disguised as 'extra tips' has his father convinced he's the hard worker he wants Hikaru to be.

Mr Trist develops a reputation for some of the best horses in the territory, with people coming far and wide to buy from his coveted stock. The rancher is making money hand over fist, with a compelling offer to provide a young teen with steady work and a pay that rivals what his family brings in through the hard and laborious efforts of running a laundry. On the ranch, Hikaru is equal to the other men maybe even valued more by Mr Trist for his skill at working with the horses. The hate that seems to flow from the townsfolk, sneers and snide comments about his heritage and skin color, never seem to penetrate the property line.

There's a quiet peacefulness on the ranch that soothes Hikaru's soul. If his father would just hear him out, he thinks his parents might be happy living on a ranch. The frantic pace of town life melts away as nature wraps its arms him, shutting out the complex social problems and expectations that flow around him like a raging river back home.

Animals are uncomplicated and non judgemental. The Clydesdale, Ranger, never laughs at Hikaru's plans for the future, he's simply happy to have someone feed him apples on late summer afternoons. Hikaru runs his hand gently up and down Ranger's neck as he grabs another apple from his pouch.

"You bring out the gentle soul in him," says Mr Trist as he saunters over to the coral and folds his arms over the post. "I ain't seen him like that with anyone but you."

"He's just misunderstood," mumbles Hikaru, ruffling Ranger's mane.

"I wish I could talk ya into workin here full time. I think ya could have a real future here," offers Mr Trist, not for the first time. The kid has helped him make his fortune and while it's not enough to push him into the upper class of society, he's never had to worry about what tomorrow brings. Not only would a steady job be a modicum repayment to the boy for such a service, but the honorable thing to do for someone who help establish his own piece of parades. It doesn't hurt that he can see the same desire to be more than people assumed he could grow up to be dance in Hikaru's eyes every time he talks about the future.

"I'll think about it Mr Trist," he sighs. The opportunity for something better is right within his grasp, his family's grasp, and his father is too stubborn and set in his ways to take it. He'd have a better chance of convincing Ranger to grow wings and fly than get his father to give up the family business and let Hikaru lead the family in a new direction.

His parents work themselves to the bone and have nothing to show for it. This shiny new world that they risked everything to travel to won't let them be more than they are now. This is a chance for them to partner with Mr Trist and find a better way of life. Sure, Mr Trist would have the final say and the only one clients would deal with, but as long as their burden is lifted what does it matter? There's only so much laundry to do in town, certainly not enough for Hikaru and his thirteen brothers and sisters to be profitable with.

It's a long walk home that afternoon as Hikaru weighs his options. At fourteen years old he wouldn't be the youngest person to strike out on his own. He has more than his parents had when they set sail to a world they'd never seen before, Which must have been an adventure in and of itself, one his father sees fit to deny him.

He looks out to the horizon and the splattering of colors that frame the setting sun. That's one thing they have in common; this is the only view they know. His parents have been here thirty years and haven't seen any more than the rail line his father worked on until he could repay his debt for passage and this town that Hikaru has never stepped foot out of.

Mr Trist is offering him a permanent job, that doesn't requiring repayment of any debt or servitude, away from a society that seems more concerned with the color of his skin than what he has to offer. It's hard to find a downside but something is making his gut turn to lead at the thought of walking away from his family that'll be too stubborn to join him. The future of the family falls on his and his younger brother and brother-in-law's shoulders. It's almost too much to bear.

He'll send them money, most of his pay in fact, because Trist has been gracious enough to offer lodging on his property in addition to a handsome wage. It will be money his father will undoubtedly be too stubborn to take; Hikaru's defiance a cut too deep to allow his father to accept the help. He'll have to give it to his oldest sister, Sayuri, who manages the books for the family business and who isn't too proud to make a few accounting errors to hide Hikaru's contribution if it means easing their parent's burden.

All his indecision goes out the window as he rounds the corner off of main street to the 'Chinese' neighborhood tucked out of sight of the predominantly white town. His father is standing on the wooden walkway of their home and business with his mother standing tall and proud dutifully behind him as his siblings crowd around the small paned window inside to stare at the four men in the street with torches. He stands there frozen watching the display of small minded bigotry manifesting right outside his door.

"Ya got till sun down ta' morrow to pack up the little woman and the kiddies and git outta here," snarls one of the ruffians. He wobbles slightly as he viciously emphasises each word by pointing towards Hikaru's family home.

"No," replies his father, calm and regal in the face of an organized mob of drunks. "This is our home." It's built with the blood, sweat and tears of an entire family over thirty years. It's the culmination of a man chasing a better life for his wife and children. He's too old to start over and needs to leave his children with a solid foundation on which to grow their own families.

One of the men throws a half drank bottle of booze at the house. It smashes against the word boards spraying glass and alcohol everywhere. The younger children inside let out cries of fear and surprise as the already hate filled conversation turns violent.

"Not anymore," a man counters, puffing up his chest to intimidate the older couple.

"Your kind is takin up valuable real-estate. We need to make room for proper white folks," adds another member of the mob as he jumps up onto the walkway. Mrs Sulu lets out a startled gasp as the man grabs her by the arm and pulls her into his embrace.

"Don't touch her," warns her husband, taking a step towards the pair. He stops as he catches the glimpses of cold steel in the flickering light of the torches. He doesn't believe in violence as a rule so there are no guns in the home, no weapons in the house that can aid him running these vial men off other than his family's ancestral sword which hangs over the fire for decretive purposes. There's no way to get to it before the ones he loves are hurt and he has no delusion that these men's guns will do more damage to his family than he could inflict with the ancient weapon.

The man on the walk way nuzzles into Sulu's wife's neck. "Could always find a room for ya with the other girls in the brothel," coos the man.

Mrs Sulu raises her hand and drags her nails across the man's face at the same moment Mr Sulu grabs him by the arm and tosses him off the walk way into the dirt he belongs. The rest of the gang pull their weapons from their holsters and aim them at the couple while their friend tries to salvage his dignity as he picks himself up off the ground.

Hikaru starts running towards his parents. "Leave them alone!" His approach captures everyone's attention, especially that of the guns, loaded and ready to discharge.

"No!" shouts Mr Sulu, stepping away from his wife to put himself between the men and his son. Hikaru is stubborn and willful, all traits that he inherited from his father and all the things that are going to put him in harm's way now. He cannot cling to stubborn pride when it's one of his own children staring down the barrel of a gun. Pride and passion took him and his new bride from Japan to the new world to escape the shackles of life back home. Perseverance and stubbornness helped him survive on this land and build a life for his family. When it comes to his children, he's not too proud to beg or throw his personal version of an empire away for their safety. "We will leave in the morning," he concedes.

Mrs Sulu wraps her arms tightly around her oldest boy. Hikaru clings to his mother tightly but he can't believe his ears. How can his father capitulate to these people? This is their home and they have no right to try and push them off of it. "Father," he snaps.

"One day old man. Or we're comin for ya and those pretty daughters of yours," warns the leader of the mob before signalling his followers to follow him back to the saloon to celebrate in their success.

Mr Sulu walks into the house without a word; his head hung low and sits next to the fire in deep contemplation.

"How can he just roll over like that?" demands Hikaru, pulling away from his mother's embrace.

His mother shakes her head but he storms into the house after his father anyways. "Hikaru," she pleads after him but he ignores her.

"How can you just cower for them?" spits Hikaru. His father built something from nothing and has run the family with an iron fist and spirit but in the face of a handful of drunks itching to spread injustice, the man wants to run away like a dog. This is the life he's demanded Hikaru follow at the expense of his own dreams and at the first test of devotion out of his father, the man folds. He grabs the sword from the mantle, a weapon he's seen capture both beauty and force in his father's hand when he would sneak downstairs at night to silently watch his father practice with it in secret. It's a weapon that could protect this family the way it has for generations of Sulus before them. "Nothing will change if you let them get away with this. What do you think is going to happen to this family if we're forced to flee this town and hide somewhere? Think about your children for once!"

"Hikaru!" snaps his mother, quiet disapproval lacing her voice.

He regrets the viciousness of his words but his point is still valid. His whole life he's been told his future is run the laundry for the benefit of the family and now his father is willing to force the family to start from nothing again because he won't stand up to a couple of bullies who decided to get brave tonight."

"I am," counters his father as he rises from his chair. They stare at one another for a moment before he begins to walk away.

Hikaru grips the handle of the sword tightly. "You shame our family by being such a coward," he adds because he can't seem to stop himself now that he's openly criticising his father. His father doesn't stop walking, leaving the house in silence.

Mrs Sulu walks up to her son and slaps his across the face. The slap echoes through the home; his siblings have sought the safety of their bedroom to avoid the argument unfolding.

Hikaru rubs his cheek but the sting doesn't want to go away. In a small voice he defends, "We'll have nothing left if we walk away." The we is rather ironic considering just hours earlier he was pondering walking away himself but his leaving would reap benefits for the family. This is walking away to the detriment of the family's survival and worse, letting the world say it's okay to do this to them because they're not white. They have sixteen mouths to feed and shelter in their family; starting over in another place won't be easy and certainly taxing on his already elderly parents.

His mother's shoulders sag. "When you have children one day, Hikaru, you will understand." She gives him a small smile before making her way to bed. Tomorrow will be taxing and she'll need all the strength she can get to see it through.

Hikaru stands there in the dying light of the fire. He doesn't need children to understand the difference between right and wrong or that running now will mean the family will be running for forever. If these men are allowed to get away with this, it will happen again to both their family and someone else's family. The whole neighborhood is ready to flee and someone needs to take a stand. He doesn't need children to know that this is worth fighting for. His children will deserve a better life than this and someone needs to stand up for it. He thought his father was strong enough to be the one to do that and mourns the loss of the childish belief that his father could move mountains.

* * *

It isn't hard to get lost in the crowd. The whole neighbourhood bands together to form a wagon train to leave town and as sunset approaches the now displaced group begins their long arduous journey to find another town to attempt to settle in and rebuild their dreams.

Hikaru slips away from his family and pillages a shot gun from his neighbour's wagon. He's never stolen anything before in his life but figures this is a worthy cause. Shotgun in hand he heads back to the house and climbs into the rafters to perch. It was a good hiding spot to avoid his siblings when they pestered him too much but tonight it serves as a good spot to get a couple of decent shots off against any intruders.

He's never seen a dead person before, certainly hasn't shot or killed someone himself but helping on the ranch has exposed him to guns and their use in putting down animals and killing the predators that threaten the herds. He believes in his cause and that has to be enough to pull the trigger. A lot of people are counting on him even if they don't know it.

Hikaru settles into wait. The mob will come to check and make sure everyone's fled. When they do, they're going to find that not everyone can be pushed around.

* * *

Himari Sulu pauses at the top of the hill to catch her breath. She takes one last look towards town, the place, she's called home for decades. Its loss is regrettable and starting again unappealing, but she'll follow her husband's lead. A home means nothing if their children's blood is spilled to keep it. She begins her mental head count of the children to make sure none of the younger ones are lagging behind and comes up one short. Fear turns her soul as she realizes Hikaru isn't among the group.

"Sayuri," she calls, getting her eldest's attention. "Where is Hikaru?"

Sayuri shrugs her shoulders. The last time she can remember seeing her brother was sitting solemnly at the breakfast table that morning, after that she's been too busy to keep tabs on him.

Himari looks around frantically one more time but comes up with the same result. She runs to her husband and grabs his arm. She holds back her tears but knows there's only one reason Hikaru wouldn't be with them. "Itsuki, Hikaru is missing."

Itsuki clenches his jaw but otherwise looks passive. He should have known his oldest son that challenges him at every turn would not follow along quietly. The trouble with youth, he thinks, is the willful stubbornness unchecked by wisdom. He reaches into the cart pulling the few possessions the family could bring with them and pulls out his sword. Weapon in hand he begins the march back to town.

* * *

Shooting, it turns out, is harder than the other ranch hands made it look. Hikaru's first shot is wide missing every member of the group that comes to ransack the remains of the now abandoned homes and his second doesn't prove any better. He doesn't get a chance to get a third off. The bullet that whizzes past his head and slams into the support beam is enough to rattle him and lose his footing on the beam sending him tumbling to the ground. There's a painful snap in his leg before agony rushes from the limb to the rest of his body, stealing his breath.

The mob maybe comprised of dumb drunk hicks but even they're smart enough to seize this opportunity. Hikaru is hauled to his feet and personally acquainted with a few fists.

"Looky here," croons one of the men. "We got ourselves a chinaman that can't seem to follow directions."

Hikaru screws up his face as the man's rancid hot breath clogs his mouth. He can smell the booze rolling off the group that clearly needs some liquid courage to run off defenceless families in the dark of night. He struggles in the grip of the men holding him but doesn't have the strength to shake off two grown men and certainly can't do it with a broken leg.

"Ya coolies are all the same; movin in and crowdin our towns. It's time ya learned your place boy and that's lickin the shit off me boots."

"I'm Japanese for starters. And this is our town too," spits Hikaru in an act of defiance. He's terrified but isn't going to give these goons the satisfaction of making him cower. He receives a backhand in response that sends him sprawling to the ground and seeing stars.

He braces himself for the next hit but it doesn't come. What he does see from his vantage point on the floor makes him give his head a shake. The backhand must have been harder than he thought because there's no way it's his father wielding a sword and fighting the group who are equal parts surprised and dumbfounded. He tries to get up but the room swims harshly and his broken limb lets him crash back to the ground.

Itsuki manages to take out two of seven men before they even realize there's someone more formidable than a child in the room. The next two are a little hard as he engages in the dance of combat and dodging the shots from the other men. He engages in a brawl with the fifth man, tousling back and forth and into furniture as they struggle for supremacy. The objects on the table go crashing to the floor as it gets overturned in the fight, including the oil lamp. When Itsuki is finished with the fifth man, fire has spread to cover half the house and the last two men have fled into the night.

Ignoring the aches and pains that run along his body, Itsuki makes his way over to his son and pulls him to his feet. There's a deep bruise blossoming across his cheek and he's favoring his leg greatly but for the most part his boy is alright, more importantly alive. Slowly they hobble to the door, with Hikaru gritting his teeth the whole way. There's no time to tend to the leg with the flames licking higher and higher.

They're almost at the door when an ominous creek rumbles through the house. Itsuki has precious seconds to push Hikaru out the door before a roof beam comes tumbling down on top of him.

Hikaru hit the ground hard. White hot pain laces up his leg forcing a cry of agony from his lips. It's nothing compared to the primal animalistic wail of loss that bubbles forth like a geyser when he watches helplessly from safety as his father is lost in the inferno that's ravaging their home.

* * *

When Hikaru's leg is healed he sets out into the world leaving his mother and siblings in the care of his Uncle's family. His mother is too consumed with grief to fight with him about staying and while Sayuri is refusing to speak to him, he knows she understands his need to go. He can't stay here anymore and needs something to wipe the memories of that night away. Mr Trist's ranch isn't an option; those who survived his father's blade regaled the sheriff with a much different story than the truth, making the Sulu family unwelcome to return to the area.

He needs to find some sort of employment to help support the family and other than his father's sword the only thing he has is his gift with animals. He drifts for a long time, doing odd jobs here and there that pay little and last as long as his desire to stay in the town which works out well for all parties.

Anger at the world in general smoulders under his skin and he's quick to let it manifest in fist fights at every opportunity. He couldn't fight the mob so he'll fight anyone else he can. He's got a job in Risa helping the blacksmith shoe horses and spends his nights hanging out in the local saloon drinking until someone makes a remark about his heritage or his age and then he spends his time learning the finer points of fighting, usually culminating in him losing the fight but exercising his need for a rumble for the night. His father would be disappointed in the path he's choosing to walk but it's not as if his father is here anymore to lecture him on the matter.

Hikaru's in one particular nasty brawl, in which he's holding his own successfully this time when a hand clamps down on his shoulder and pulls him off the asshole that thought he could talk about Hikaru like he didn't understand English. Naturally that means that someone else wants to join the fight and he's quick to direct his aggression towards whoever is pulling him away.

Unlike the drunk in the saloon, this adversary is a little more skilled and a little more prepared. He's got Hikaru in a head lock as he escorts the struggling Hikaru out of the salon and tosses him in the water trough on the street with a, "take a minute and cool off."

Hikaru comes up coughing and sputtering, the cold water a complete shock to the system but does serve to calm him down and reduce his rage to a well aimed simmer. He kicks the side of the trough but gains nothing but causing a wave motion to wash back on him, splashing and filling his mouth with the dirty water.

"You about done?"

Hikaru glares at the soldier that's looking at him expectantly. "Yeah," he snarls. To his surprise the soldier offers his hand to help Hikaru out of the trough. He begrudgingly accepts and attempts to wring out his shirt once he's out of the water. "The army got a vested interest in saloon brawls now?" he asks.

The officer smiles. "No. But I might have a vested interest in you."

"Why's that?" He can't help the attitude. The soldier's done nothing beyond giving Hikaru an unexpected and unrequested bath but that's enough to earn his ire these days. That and most people's interest in him hasn't produced the best outcomes in his life.

"I've been watching you for a couple of days..."

"If you need someone to shine your shoes for you, you're barking up the wrong tree. I'm no one's personal servant."

"Wasn't looking for one. I'm Captain Christopher Pike and the army might just be what you're looking for."

Hikaru snorts. "I don't exactly fit the army's idea of a recruit, Captain Pike."

Pike tips his head in agreement. "Maybe not, but you fit mine."

"How so?"

"You don't back down, even if you're not sure you can win. You're not a blacksmith by trade but you picked up enough to be competent pretty quickly. Enough raw talent that you could be trained to be a decent soldier. And I've seen you with the horses; you have a way with animals. Having a dependable horse to ride into battle with is important." Hikaru is about to walk away when Pike adds, "You know how to use that sword you carry around in your sac?"

Hikaru stops. "I know enough." It's a lie. He's never had training. He just knows a few moves he remembers his father displaying during his late night practicing. The finer points of his education are the pointy end needs to go into your enemy but as for any skill against someone who uses a sword, he's woefully inadequate. It's mostly a reminder of what the world has taken from him and the illusions it left him with.

"I could set you up with someone that knows how to use it. Roof over your head, steady work training horses for my regiment and training until your old enough to join," offers Pike with the most sincere look Hikaru's ever seen. "Join and you could have something worth fighting for that'll make a difference in people's live instead of trying to satisfy that chip on your shoulder."

"Why do you care?" Not many strangers have really given a damn about him. Fewer still offer opportunities. There has to be a catch in this somewhere, he just has to find it.

"Under the brooding and bar fights I see someone looking for something better, a chance to be better. The whole world is lying ahead of you; you just have to go about another way of getting there. What have you got to lose?"

What does he have to lose? At the very least he gets a place to sleep and maybe a new set of skills to use to his advantage at the cost of training a couple of horses. It's nothing he hasn't done in the past and he can't say he doesn't like the work. Reluctantly, Hikaru agrees and come next morning he finds himself riding out of town with Pike heading to a homestead further west than he's ever been yet to study, train and work for an old friend and supposed sword master of the captain's.

"So why do they call him Three Fingered Jack?" Hikaru asks when they crest the last hill that overlooks the homestead. It's picturesque and peaceful and so not like the string of towns he's brawled his way through the last couple of years.

Pike smiles. "He wasn't always a master with a sword," he says before encouraging his horse to pick up the pace.

They reach the house only to be greeted by a man that looks like he was trapped in a mine, deep in the forest for the last two years and had to crawl back to civilization on his own. Hikaru has a moment that he feels he needs to re-evaluate his decision to take Captain Pike up on his offer as he contemplates spending the next two years as this mountain man's student. He hardly seems like a man that can turn out well trained military recruits, let alone someone that studied the finer points of fencing but Pike insists his haggard friend is one of the best.

Pike and Jack greet each other with a hardy handshake and forceful hug before heading inside for a drink. Hikaru lingers outside for a moment, taking it all in. The homestead reminds Hikaru of Mr Trist's ranch, complete with a coral of some of the most majestic looking horses he's ever seen in his whole life. This might just be what his weary soul needs right now.

* * *

The work is hard and Jack is a stern and demanding task master but at the end of everyday Hikaru feels like he gained something, physically, mentally or spiritually. Jack teaches him about plants and food and from that comes the value of patients. His skills become sharper and more fine tuned as he learns to do more damage with one well timed blow than many thrown in haste or desperation.

One day he passes by a mirror and realises he's not staring back at some reckless kid with some flight of fancy dream but a man with passion, drive and purpose and the skill to turn any dream into a reality. He sees his father in his own reflection.

When Pike returns to collect him on the heels of war he feels prepared for whatever awaits him. He saddles up his latest group of trained horses and takes them to the rest of Pike's troops. While battle isn't anything his father would have wanted for him, Hikaru is being given the opportunity to stand up and defend those that can't do it for themselves and this time succeed in the task. That is something his father could be proud of. It's not the life of a cowboy he dreamed of but this somehow, this seems like a better dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this story, commented and/ or left kudos, you're the best.  
> There is an origin story for each member of the gang: Kirk, Spock, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, Pike and then McCoy


End file.
